A Tale of Two Speakeasies
by HumanKnotGirl
Summary: A 1920's style crime drama between the Satou Agency and the Hakamichi Conglomerate. There will be romance but that doesn't come in until later.
1. TAVERN

A/N: I'm taking some pretty big leaps with the story I plan to write here. It's basically Katawa Shoujo, set in 1920s Americanized Japan with gangsters and back alley dealings. Character backstories are slightly changed, and each chapter will be in first person of a different character, much like the styling of "Grudges of the Past" was. Things will make more sense as more chapters are posted. Until then, enjoy!

Blade of the Underground (TAVERN)

The sound of thunder and rain could be heard rattling the windows of the bar, a testament to mother nature's true power. While the building itself was sturdy for its time, there was a slight chill that permeated the walls where it could. Shrugging my jacket closer to my neck, I focus on the task at hand.

Deep breath, aim low...

I send the cue stick low into the white ball that was my target. There is an audible *thud* as the cue ball is sent into the air before landing with a *clink on top of two stripes sitting toward the left corner pocket. The one on the left sinks quite effortlessly; the one on the right begins to roll. It continues before stopping just short of the right corner pocket.

"Shit..." I bite my lip and set the balls back to their original positions, eager to try again. But as I slide the stick between my fingers it becomes clear to me that someone is watching. With a shrug, I take aim again, and send the cue ball flying.

"I'm pretty sure shots like that make you a hustler, Hanako." She wore a black pinstriped suit. Blonde hair flowing haphazardly below a matching fedora hat. For a woman to be dressing so masculine at the time was rare, but then again this wasn't an ordinary town. And this was no ordinary woman.

I frown at her criticism of my shot. "Well, I'm pretty sure that people who know better should shut their mouths. It's thanks to you that shot missed completely."

"How many attempts does that make?"

"Twenty-nine."

"Hot damn, you don't give up!" She whistles at me in mock admiration. Had this been anyone else then I would have probably shoved this cue stick where the sun don't shine. And had anyone spoken to this woman the way I did, they would likely be left with a broken ribcage. But this tolerance the two of us have for one another does not in any way imply that we are great friends either. In the end, it's strictly business. I turn to her. "So I take it you have a job for me, Akira Satou?"

She nods, and I lean the cue stick against a mount on the wall. Silently we make our way from the rec area into one of the booths on the far side of the speakeasy. At the snap of Akira's fingers, a cute waitress makes her way over.

"W-what will it be, you two?" Yuuko Shirakawa is something of a klutzy woman, but everyone knows that she means well. As she fiddles with the drink tray held against her chest, Akira decides to take advantage of her nervousness by flirting mercilessly, the way any guy would. Of course, that's something not even I would say out loud, because it is a really sore subject for the blonde sitting across from me.

"And y-you, Hanako?"

"Oh. Hard cider is fine." She wanders off to get our drinks ready. Already I'm not too interested in this evening. Another breeze flows in and I pull my jacket even tighter around me. Akira notices my distant demeanor and, sighing heavily, pulls out a small envelope.

"Last night there was an incident involving our private transfer train on the Shinjuku line. Apparently some low-brows went in and ransacked it."

"Members of the Hakamichi Conglomerate?" I asked.

"No, it looks like they aren't really affiliated with anyone. We've already captured a few of them and they didn't seem to be hiding anything regarding the HC."

"What did you do to them?"

"The usual; beat them to a bloody pulp." Akira began to laugh. Coughing, she continued. "However, one got away. Damn broad is fast for her height. The name is Ibarazaki. Your job is to track her down, get back the money she stole, and dispose of her."

I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "Just how much loot did she take?"

"Approximately sixteen thousand."

"Really? And she was able to carry it all?"

"Apparently she had a really big briefcase," answered the blonde. "She may not have been the brains of the operation, but she was a damn good executioner. Leaving her alive could cause major problems down the road, if you know what I'm saying."

"Yeah, I hear you." Sighing, I lean back in my seat as Yuuko returns with our drinks. The hot, liquored cider soothes my throat as it goes down, while Akira enjoys a tall glass of sake. She looks at me and I pull down my cap, my bangs falling over my eye. She frowns.

"Hanako, I understand you're still worn from the last job. What happened was awful, and I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. However..." Akira's hands begin to cross and uncross as she thinks of how to continue. "However...hm...well, to be honest, it's rather simple. You took this position knowing the risks. It's only natural you see it through to the end. Don't let a little incident get you down!"

Her boisterous laughter only serves to make me feel even less inclined. Still, she is right. I don't have a choice in the matter, so I might as well see it through, as she put it. Sighing, I leave some change at the table and bid Akira goodnight.

Smoke billows from furnaces throughout the city, filling the atmosphere with soot and grime. Cars travel along the cobblestone streets, splashing up water from the rain. As the downward spray pelts me I merely shrug it off. Wandering the streets in pursuit of my target, I can't help but think of what led me to this point.

* * *

When I was eight years old, my parents were killed in a devastating accident. They weren't very wealthy, so everything they owned was seized by various legal firms and agencies that I can't really care to name. All that really matters is that I was left alone, without anything.

An orphanage took me in, and there I slept when I wasn't out working the local shops as a delivery girl. Every day was the same awful tedium, the same exhausting melancholy and depression. I quickly began to hate the world I lived in, and I knew I would have to do something about it.

I was fourteen when big alcohol became a popular trend. Rumors constantly flew about how commoners were making bank and spending frivolously by selling illicitly. I concluded that if I could somehow get immersed in that world, I'd finally be someone. No more with this mediocre existence that was mine.

I taught myself how to fight. I taught myself how to sneak about without being detected. I practiced pickpocketing, and in time I felt skilled enough to tackle my first bar. It was a rush unlike any I've ever felt. I played myself off as a normal waitress and pilfered hundreds of dollars off of random drunks. Soon I was able to leave the orphanage and afford my own tenement apartment. Run down it was, but it was also a step up.

I got greedy. Instead of passively lifting money off people, I began to get more violent, actively accosting people in back alleys. My speed with a knife became unmatched; I felt invincible, truly a force to be reckoned with. I continued to amass more and more cash, took up gambling, and spent as freely as the people I stole money from. It was all so wonderful.

That is, until the day I barked up the wrong tree, so to speak.

A lone figure darted into the night, slightly drunk and vividly chipper. Lighting a cigarette, they walked into the alleyways behind the row of speakeasies lining the business district. An easy target, I felt at the time. Suddenly, the figure found they were at a dead end. Smiling, I pulled out my knife.

"Money and jewelry," I call out. "Don't make me come any closer than I have to."

Instead of fear, I hear laughter, which is shocking, to say the least. I keep my guard up as the figure speaks. "Well, well, this is quite the arrangement you've made for yourself, eh? Trapped an innocent drunkard against a brick wall, right?"

I step closer. "Money and jewelry. I'm not in the mood for games, sir."

The figure removes their hat, and turns to me, revealing their face. A woman? For a second, I lower the knife. Without warning, the figure runs to me and forces a blade of her own to my neck. For a second I forget to breathe as I figure out what just happened. That's when I feel it. For the first time in a long time, I feel it.

Fear.

Panicking, I swing the blade sideways, cutting along the woman's arm. It severs the sleeve of her suit but doesn't break the skin. As she pulls back I regain my footing. I lunge at her, my knife clanging against hers in the night. She counters every move I make. Unable to get an edge on her, I pull back and stare her down. "You're a better opponent than I thought."

"I could say the same. Hanako Ikezawa."

"Just how do you know my name?"

"Oh, I know quite a bit about you. Like how you've been swindling clientele at every bar you've served as a waitress for. Which includes Satou's Tavern, which I happen to co-own."

Crap.

Knowing I've met my match, I take off running down the alleys toward the main avenue. I didn't get far when a sharp pain in my right arm took me to the ground. "T-throwing knives..."

"Now, now, don't get all bent out of shape, girlie." The woman begins to laugh as she did before. "I'm not going to kill you. Instead, I want to offer you a job."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. This mobster, who just took me down with a throwing knife of all things, is offering to pay me to do the very thing she just threw a knife at me for doing? Clutching the blade tight, I scream as I pull it from my body, panting heavily as blood trickles from the wound. I sit with my back against a cold wall. "So what's...this job?"

"I want you to be a retriever."

I smirk, wincing. "Like a dog?"

Another laugh. "Not exactly. You know how to fight, and you can take things undetected. You'd do well in my line of work. So what do you say?" I bite my lip, and she adds, "Or I can kill you now. That works too."

This serves to make me smile. Well played, mystery woman. "Very well...you have my oath."

The woman pulls me upright and carries me to the rear door of Satou's Tavern. "Name's Akira Satou. My sister and I co-own this place, as well as many other distributors in this city."

"And you already...know who I am." It hurts to move my arm, but the blade didn't go very far in so I think I'll be alright. "You're accent...you're only half Japanese?"

"Scottish and Japanese; very astute, my dear Hanako." Akira began to bandage my wound, and that was that. Over time she helped me grow and adapt my skills, and sent me on errands to collect debts or rough up anyone who'd tried screwing the Satou name. Of course, there's more to it than that.

The rain continues to fall and brings me back to the present. So far tonight has been pretty quiet; nobody's seen the girl I'm looking for. I consider calling it a night, and that's when I notice a blacked out shop window. Only thing is, someone is moving in there.

I take a step closer, pulling out the photo Akira gave me. It looks like it could be a match, but I need to get closer. This is an antique shop; it's possible whoever is in there is looking for old war jewelry to sell on the black market. Going out the front door would be too obvious, and going out the back door would make too much noise. A window, perhaps?

I wait along the far side of the building when suddenly a latch slides open. Out flies a bag full of loot, and then a young girl with hair pulled into a twin-tails style. I step from the shadows. "Emi Ibarazaki." The girl freezes, and I push on. "For your actions against the Satou Agency, your punishment is death." I pull out my knife.

Emi considers running or fighting. As I step closer, she chooses the latter. Pulling out a handgun, she aims awkwardly and fires. I duck behind some trash cans as she continues to fire. Once she's exhausted her rounds, I charge her, bringing my knife to her neck.

She stares in horror. "Y-your face!"

"Shut up! Where is the money you stole!?" My voice is cold, but I fear that my wicked grin gives away my true thoughts. As I've said, this is a rush unlike any other.

"I..I..." She hesitates. I dig the blade into her shoulder. "Ayieh!" She bites her lip in pain. "I won't...I won't tell!"

I push her to the ground and store the bloody blade in my pocket. "Is that so?" There's a lead pipe near the trash cans. Picking it up, I juggle it between my hands. "This feels pretty heavy. Be a shame if I bashed your pretty little face in."

"Please...don't do this..."

"What was that!?" I send the pipe down onto her leg. There's an ear-piercing scream and a loud crack as her leg goes limp. I do the same to her other leg, and then start alternating back and forth. "You want me to just give you up!? After you and your friends already caused the Satou family so much trouble? You brought this on yourself! All you had to do was give us the money! And now...you'll die here!"

But as I go to bring down the pipe one more time, I freeze. I look at the girl, whose legs are now rendered completely useless. She's mumbling something. The same word over, and over, and over again.

Mother.

She's barely conscious, she's sure she's going to die, and it's of course something I've seen before on people I've taken the life of. But on this girl, I can't help but feel...a connection. Her face, contorted as it is in agony; I realize...

With that, I drop the pipe. My hands clutch at my own face. I feel the scars which, until recently, were not there. My mind goes back to the incident which left me in the same situation as this girl, screaming, barely lucid, and saying the same word over, and over, and over again.

Mother.

This was my first job since that incident. And for some reason I just can't handle this. I can't handle seeing someone in the very position I'd been put in. Not anymore. Why did I take this damn job in the first place? Tears are forming in my eyes as the emotional realization hits me like a brick wall.

As I hear footsteps approaching, I know I need to get out of here. I run down the alleys until I make it to a particularly dark area, and the stress of it all causes me to vomit horrifically.

"This is all that painter's fault. She did this to me! She made me a coward! This was such an easy job; so easy! So why...why couldn't I kill?" My hands continue to trace the scars which line my face. The memory of the agony, of feeling like I'd met a fate worse than death, flashes into my mind. I can't stand it; it's too much.

"I'm not the girl I once was..." That's all there is to it. I'm not an assassin anymore. It's over. Ever since that incident I've been as useless as I was before this all started. I've lost everything. My heart, my soul...just can't take it.

Weakly, I head toward Satou's Tavern. As if on autopilot, I take a sheet of paper and leave a message for Akira. Without a word, I make the walk back to my apartment. As I fall onto my futon, I pass out.


	2. RIVAL

Unhealthy Proximity (RIVAL)

"Ugh, I'm so bored! How much longer do we have to wait?"

"We wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't shown up the way you did."

"I can say the same about you, miss Satou. This is the worst!"

"Seriously, how did Lilly and Shizune plan to attack the same target at the same time? I have to give Sis some credit; those are some amazing chances."

"Wish I had something to eat," I say aloud, rubbing my stomach as I sit against the wall of the wine cellar. Up on the floor above, we hear the sound of footsteps and police officers barking orders. In a way, this room has become our prison for the time being. And trust me, Akira Satou is NOT the person I'd want to be stuck with in a prison.

But you're probably wondering how things got to this point, aren't you? Let me back things up a bit. You see, eight hours ago...

Cigarette smoke and freeform jazz permeated the atmosphere of the Hakamichi Conglomerate's second floor. You see, the HC is an eighteen story casino-hotel owned and operated by the Hakamichi bloodline, and if you haven't heard of it, then where the hell have you been all this time? It's like, the cream of the crop as far as entertainment goes in this city, after all.

Of course, after midnight, things get a bit more interesting. While the Satou Agency owns and operates multiple smaller establishments across the city, our operations are single and central-based. It's easier that way, and much more profitable.

I was in a private booth, seated across from the owner, who happens to be under my protection. A beautiful maiden with a penchant for manipulation and dominance, Shizune Hakamichi is a woman you do not want to mess with.

And if you ask me, she's damn sexy to boot. Oh! But I'm not supposed to say that out loud.

Actually, I guess it wouldn't matter if I did. The thing about Shicchan is that she suffers from deafness, so communication is always in the form of sign language with her. This has an upside as the walls of the private booths don't need to be soundproofed. But I guess that's not important, is it?

And my name's Misha, by the way! You know, in case you were wondering about that.

So the fabulous Shicchan and I were in a private booth, the ambient jazz music and thick cigarette smoke making its way through the walls. Miki Miumay sound like laundry, the truth is it's rather serious stuff!

You see, before alcohol became heavily regulated, there were these things called 'wine funds.' You go in, put money down on bottles of wine and sell the wine when it's gone up in value. It's like the Stock Exchange, but much cooler! Anyway, when alcohol became more scarce, it's value went way up. So now there's competition to make sure those assets are protected.

Or, you know, competition to seize those assets from others, wink wink!

"And that's all I know," concluded Miki as I finished translating her words into sign. Shiccan paused, mulling things over in her head before turning back to me. [I understand. Truth be told this fund has been on my hitlist for a while. As a reward for your services, you'll be getting a hefty bonus.]

She signs quickly, and I relay this information verbally back to Miki, who of course is happy to be receiving more money. Shicchan continues. [Just be sure not to spend it all in one place.] She smiles, and I can't help but grin myself.

Miki excuses herself, and Shicchan turns to me. [Alright, so you know the situation. The wine firm in question is maintained by Inoue Financial. The wine cellar is divided into two floors; the first of which contains the standard investment wines. But the second cellar floor contains even rarer concoctions which date back to the 18th century. These wines sell for tens of thousands on the black market.]

[Roger!] I reply using my hands to sign my confirmation. [So are we going to steal those wines?]

Shiccan shakes her head. [Removing them runs the risk of ruining them. Thankfully, we shouldn't need to. In that cellar are a series of registration documents pertaining to the investors themselves. All you need to do is find this ledger and changeover the records for three wines in particular, the names of which have been provided for you.] She slips an envelope onto the table.

[You can count on me!] I give a proud salute, grab the envelope, and make my way through the hotel floor.

I take the stairs two at a time until I reach the ninth floor. It's a walk not for the faint of heart, but I've done it so often that I hardly notice it anymore. Fishing the key from around my neck, I make my way into room 904. I can see the city below, dull filament lighting marred by the industrial smoke. Still, it has a kind of unique charm to it that I just can't help but admire.

Standing before my dresser, I let my red ballroom style gown fall to the ground. Fishing through my drawers I find a more modest black flapper dress and matching trenchcoat.I line the pockets with various items that may or may not prove useful for my upcoming endeavor, and get ready to set out for what will be a truly interesting evening.

It takes almost twenty minutes to reach the ground floor, not that I'm in any particular hurry. Prancing about with a spring in my step, I hail a taxi and head for the financial district. It's quiet for ride over, and I thank the driver before making my way into the throng of buildings ahead of me.

"Alright, so it should be a blue building...ah! That must be it. Now how to get inside?" I walk around the brick structure for several minutes, not seeing any conspic...conspicuous? entrances from the outside. I frown. "Hm...if that's the case...maybe there's an entrance in one of the other buildings! Like that guy who drilled a hole through a hospital into a bank! Yeah, that must be it!

Sure enough, after scouring two city blocks for more than an hour, I finally find the entrance to an underground tunnel. I examine the doors. They look like they've been messed with, which means that someone could already be inside right now! Swallowing hard, I pull out a set of chains from inside my coat. Cautiously, I enter the small tunnel.

It's dark, and smells of the earth. I can only hope I'm going the right way as I feel the moist ground coat my hands and knees. After what feels like forever, I wind up in a small concrete room.

"Wooaaahh..." I gasp as my eyes adjust to the light. From wall to wall are shelves of wine bottles, all shapes and sizes of them! I wander the aisles for a bit, enjoying this new discovery, but footsteps ahead of me remind me to be careful! I dart back behind a shelf, to make as little noise as possible.

And I see her. Akira Satou, co-owner of the Satou Tavern and vice-leader of the Satou Agency. My arch nemesis! I think, maybe if I sneak behind her I can take her out! So I pull my chain tighter in my hands, and make my way to the aisle behind her...

And come face to face with a really big knife. "Well, well, didn't expect to run across Shinna Mikado in a place like this. Let me guess, deaf bitch sent you on a little errand?"

I spit at her. "My name's MISHA you skank! And what, is your little sister still making you her bitch?"

We each take a step back, weapons at the ready. There's an eerie silence between us for a few seconds, and then we charge. Careful not to disturb the wines, we begin to clang metal against metal, my chains against her knives. Unfortunately, a few bottles do get knocked down, shattering on impact with the floor.

We both stop. Akira stares at me. "If that was the E2 wine, I'm going to kill you."

"Wait, you're after E2 as well?" Now this is odd. I didn't expect her and I to be going after a similar name on the ledger. Unless... "What other wines are you looking for?"

"A9 and F7...Why...? Suddenly realization dawns on the blonde skank's face as well, and we realize just what kind of situation we're in. "Ha! I got to the ledger first, you pink-haired broad!" If you want it, you're gonna have to-"

Suddenly, there's a thump on the ceiling above us, followed by several more and the barking of orders. We look up. "C-cops!?" I shout a little louder than I'd have liked to, and Akira pushes me to the floor.

"Not so loud!" she whispers harshly in my ear. "Police can't find out about this room. If they do, it'll be over for more than you and I."

We sit in silence, trying to hear what's going on above. "Tell...close off...area...crime scene...murder victim..." It's faint, but you get the idea.

"So it wasn't us they heard...that's a relief." Akira sighs and turns to me. "However, I can't leave while you're here. If you want that ledger, you'll have to go through me. And we can't do that until the cops disappear."

I nod. "Very well then. Just know I'm not giving up without a fight." I stick my tongue out at her, and then make my way to the other side of the room. We stare at each other as the commotion continues upstairs.

Fast forward to four hours later. Here we are, still staring at each other with menace in our eyes. The sun has to be up by now, and I'm starving. I don't know how much more I can take, honestly!

"Hey...Mikado," hearing her call out to me is a bit shocking, to say the least.

"One, it's Misha. Two, what is it?"

The blonde yawns. "You sure this is really all that worth it? You know, sitting, waiting to fight me over a slip of paper?"

I sigh. "To be honest...this really sucks. You got a better idea?"

A nod. "There are three wines that we need, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, two of the wines are currently equal market value, you know?"

"I still don't get where you're going with this. Where does that leave the third?"

"What if the third were to have suddenly, you know...vanished?" She looks dead serious on this. But it starts to make sense.

"Wahahaha! You can't be serious, Akira. The broken bottle?" I get a nod from the girl across from me, and start to laugh even harder. "Well, I don't mind swapping the labels and having a taste. Our little secret?"

"Our little secret." We both laugh as we set about cleaning up the mess, dull light streaming in to help guide us. We agree that the A9 wine will go to the HC, while the E2 wine will go to the Satou Agency. And we erase the F7 entry completely, stating that it never existed at all.

Though in hindsight, the odd turn of events is not what surprises me most. No, what I find most shocking is just how much wine Akira Satou can down without passing out. That said, we were both a little tipsy as we ascended toward the surface.

"And if anyone asks, you and I never saw each other!" The blonde yells out from across the street as we start to go our separate ways. I smile and nod, making my way back to the HC, exhausted. I just know Shicchan will grill me over this whole ordeal, but...

I'm sure I'll come up with something to tell her.


End file.
